2020 is the prefect year for a relapse.
I’ve been thinking it through, and I came to the conclusion that I’m crazy for not relapsing this year.
This year so far, has been filled with unplanned difficulties, game changers, throw offs, and isolation. Even if I just look back at this very week.
Monday, a terrorist attack on my beloved city.
Tuesday, the start of a second lockdown, and the uncertainty of there is still another dangerous person on the run from the police.
Wednesday, not being able to process anything that has happened and still little sleep.
Thursday, so many people I know were really sick with covid at this point of the week.
Friday, depression hitting hard.
Saturday, being alone a lot and constantly fighting tears for no reason.
Sunday, even more isolation and being reminded that the people around me don’t need me (unless I’m cooking for them).
Some people asked me why I have already bought most of my Christmas presents, and the honest answer is, that I have no idea what will happen between now and later.
I don’t know where I will be and in what state of mind.
It has been so hard not to drink.
I have been fighting for my sobriety especially hard this week, but I don’t know for how long I can stay strong.
I keep having nightmares and seeing myself get drunk. I keep hearing the voices in my head tell me I need to drink, and it is so so tempting. I want nothing more right now.
My pride is helping a bit not to throw away three years… but it won’t take much at this point.
Just to feel the warmth for a moment tonight…I’d give anything.
So I try to push people away as long as I still can; for their safety.
I feel like a grenade that could go off at any given moment and destroy everything around.
And I guess tonight would be as good as any day to go.